Chapter One

Today is here, and today is special. Just like every other day.

My mother taught me that, rest her soul.

She told me, when I was just a small boy, that each day is a blessing, and we should live our lives cherishing every single moment we are given.

She died when I was twelve, so did my father. They are with Mother now.

But death doesn’t erase us. My parents live on, in me and in the works they left behind.

It’s comforting to know that.

So I make today count, as I did yesterday; as I will tomorrow.

After my shower, I make an egg and bacon sandwich with honey, my favorite, and then I practice for tomorrow’s reflection. I’m singing a new song, which is always a little nerve-racking. But Jordan knows it well, so I think we’ll do fine.

Smiling, I slip on a t-shirt, then open my door, hopping down the steps of my trailer.

It’s an addition, and I’m so grateful for it. I haven’t earned my own trailer just yet; so instead, Paul and Gina agreed to help me get an addition to theirs, for some privacy. I’m nineteen now, and living in the same shared space as my guardians can get a bit… cramped. To say the least.

I would’ve liked to have had my addition when I was fifteen, but I grin and bear it. Paul and Gina are great, and they give me distance when I need it.

I’m not saying I love to be alone, but there are times when I cherish it. The quiet.

The… solitude.

At the thought, hairs stand on the back of my neck and my breath stops short. Glancing at my arms, I have goosebumps. I pull my lower lip between my teeth…

“Are you cold?” Gina’s loud yet somehow raspy voice startles me out of my thoughts, and I jump. “It’s warm today.”

“No, no.” I smile at her, closing the door to my trailer. “Not cold. It was just a breeze. Did you get the bread I left you?” I change the subject.

She squeezes my arm and tugs me to walk with her. “Yes, I most certainly did. You made that yourself?” I nod, humbly of course. “It’s delicious. You must have gotten your mother’s baking gene.”

My smile widens at mention of my mother from her best friend.

Gina and her husband, Paul, took me in when my parents died. The four of them had been best friends for years, since Mom and Dad joined The Principality. My parents were young, but Gina and Paul are even younger. In their thirties with a nineteen-year-old…

Don’t feel bad for them. They love me.

I was born on the Expanse. I’ve never been outside our territory, and in all honesty, I wouldn’t want to. The Regnum is my family, the Expanse my home. Even if it took my parents…

I shake myself out of these thoughts. “Hopefully not my father’s overcooking gene.” I smirk at Gina, and she elbows me.

“I don’t know how you eat your bacon like that. It’s basically crumbles!”

“Better than having it still oinking at me,” I tease, and she rolls her eyes. “Paul on hoe duty?”

She puffs out a breath. “Yea, and then he’s pulling a double shift…”

I pause. “Training?” She nods, hesitantly. “Why are they ramping up security? Did something happen?”

Gina shrugs. “All we’ve heard is that this autumn’s yield is the most ambitious anyone’s seen in years. They’re planning the harvest to outweigh what we’re used to, and I guess that calls for an increase in the Tribe.”

Interesting…

I’ve never considered joining the Tribe. Not that I have anything against fighting to protect what’s ours. I’d gladly lay down my life for The Principality, my family… Mother. But they never ask me. I’ve been a Domestic since I was a kid. I suppose my talents are better suited to serve him.

My stomach flips and I distract myself by feeding into our menial conversation. “Are we working together today?”

“Yes indeed, kiddo.” Gina smiles while we walk, soil and rock crunching beneath our steps as we approach the Den. “We’ve got wash for a few hours before break.” She doesn’t miss my sigh. “But if you’d like, I suppose you could take meal prep.”

My face lights up. “Yea?”

“Sure,” she chuckles. “Why not? Seeing how excited you are about it, I’m not sure I could say no.” She pinches my cheeks, and I brush her off.

My face heats a bit, eyes darting toward the giant cabin. “G, I’m not a kid anymore,” I whine, sounding entirely like one in my petulance.

She holds up her hands. “Sorry. I know, you’re a man. Speaking of which, have you seen Kinsey? I know she wanted to ask you to sit with her at the sermon tomorrow…”

I have to fight not to roll my eyes. “She didn’t ask me.” I can’t help it if my response comes out short.

“Well, maybe you should ask her,” Gina says in her prying-while-acting-like-I’m-not, motherly sort of way. I can’t be mad at her for it. “I’m sure she’d love that.”

I swallow. “Maybe I will.”

Tugging her with me, I’m hoping for an end to this conversation. Kinsey is a nice girl. She’s pretty, too. Or fuckhot, as Jordan would say. So I’m sure if I were going to date a girl, she’d be a good choice.

But she doesn’t give me those feelings… You know, the tingly ones. Aren’t you supposed to get those for the person you want to date?

I suppose that’s why I’ve never had a relationship, of any kind. I’m waiting for something that may never come.

As we approach the giant, lavish cabin, known as the Den, my gut twists, and the goosebumps come back. I just pray Gina doesn’t notice them this time…

The Den belongs to the Head Priest of The Principality… Darian. It’s his home. The rest of us live in trailers, but don’t take that to mean anything negative, because they’re really nice.

But he’s in charge. So he gets his own Den.

They built it shortly after The Principality first came to be, which was a few years before I was born. It’s a two-floor mansion that sits on Lake Willow, made creatively of Maple and Douglas firs. There are eight bedrooms, six baths, an office, study, library, home gym, the most fantastic kitchen you could ever imagine, three fireplaces, and a… lounge.

I know, the lounge doesn’t seem as interesting as I just made it sound, but I’ll explain later.

The Den also has its own outdoor greenhouse, and an attached garage that could house at least five cars, not that it does. There are two cars inside, but more ATVs than anything else, which is how we get around the Expanse. We don’t have paved roads, but trails, and we mostly use golf carts and four-wheelers to travel back and forth.

I’ve only been in a car once. Head Priest let me sit inside his Jeep when I was thirteen.

I swallow at the memory as Gina and I wander up the steps of the porch, smiling and waving at Layla and Timothy as they pass. We’re relieving them of the early shift.

Approximately fifteen Domestics work here in the Den. We serve as hands, if you will, to the Head Priest, handling all the household chores, like cooking, cleaning, serving food; basically getting him whatever he needs.

And because the job requires us to be somewhat on call, our trailers are located on his land. Everyone else resides about a quarter-mile up the drive, between Lake Willow and White Trumpet Mountain; the main stretch of the Expanse. The rest of our territory is made up of farmland.

The Principality is self-sustained. We don’t require anything from Outsiders, though we do have a lucrative import/export business, which I know next to nothing about. It’s not my job to know about it. Actually, not many of the Regnum do. Business is handled by Drake…

The Alchemist.

He’s Head Priest’s brother. Well, they’re not brothers by blood, but they grew up together, and formed The Principality almost twenty-five years ago.

Folklore has it that our Head Priest and his brother left behind a world of pain in their past lives and found solace here in the woods of the Pacific Northwest. They had nothing; no belongings or vanity, but they were able to survive on the providings of God; our Mother Earth, also known as Mother.

And from there on out, Mother spoke through them. She gave them shelter and food, tranquility for their souls, in exchange for a sacrifice of the modern world. They gladly gave up their connections to society, the evils of the Outsiders, who destroy our planet any way they can. Darian and Drake started a new community here in the woods, claimed a territory they named the Expanse.

And thus, The Principality was born.

The Regnum, our family, grew more and more over the years, though it remains small; about a thousand people. Our population fluctuates as babies are born, and the elderly pass away, but that’s about it. No one leaves, and we rarely accept new strays.

To be honest, I’m not sure why not. But again, it’s not my place to know.

As Gina and I get settled inside, I can feel myself sharpening. I’m always on alert inside the Den. I want to make sure I’m at the top of my game for him.

He doesn’t require a lot… Meals prepped once weekly for quick breakfasts and lunches, though we cook and serve dinner each night for him and his wives.

Yes, the Head Priest has wives, plural. Five of them. I don’t want to talk about it right now…

“Well, kid, get a move on.” Gina taps me on the butt. “Timothy left a menu on the counter. You’ve got a lot of potatoes to peel.”

Yay.

I love to cook, but the prep work sometimes feels daunting. Still, I do so without complaint, because I’m blessed to be here.

None of the jobs on the Expanse are particularly grueling, but I have empathy for Paul and the guys working on the farm. Tending to the land can be back-breaking work, especially when preparing for grow season. A majority of our crops grow in spring and summer, which is basically now, so they’ve been hustling for weeks. And at harvest time? Forget about it.

I’ll just stick to peeling my potatoes.

Getting myself settled in this kitchen I know so well, I throw on an apron and begin my duties. The house is huge, yet still, at every noise I hear, my eyes dart up from my tasks on the off-chance I might catch a glimpse of him.

I know what you’re thinking, but it’s not like that. Sure, maybe my fascination with Head Priest has been intensifying over the last year or so, but it’s no big deal.

I just… admire him. He’s our King. A fearless leader who brought us all together in this great family, and gave us means beyond anything the outside world could provide. He teaches us to love and revere Mother. To appreciate Her and Her gifts, as well as to recognize the part we all play in the great transformation known as life.

Shut up.

Hours pass with me trying not to think about it, and next thing I know, it’s break time. We have an hour to relax before we get started on dinner, and I use the opportunity to go catch up with Jordan.

He’s my best friend. We grew up together, here. He’s older than me by about four months, but according to everyone, we’ve been inseparable pretty much since birth. Truth be told, we couldn’t be more different. Jordan is messy, and crass, and he spends a majority of his free time with his tongue down the throats of various girls. But I love him, regardless of his man-slutting ways.

Walking up the drive, toward Regnum housing, I tilt my face to the sky. My lips curl into a contented smile as rays of sunshine gleam across my face. It’s a beautiful day. Colors are on full display, shades of green in the grass and leaves, yellow buttercups and purple irises sprinkled along the path.

Rushing of the creek’s waters tickles my ears, the nearby birds singing their tunes, reminding me of tomorrow.

“Heyyy, what’s up, you beautiful bastard?” My serene walk is interrupted by the booming voice of my best friend.

Jordan stomps over to me, disregarding the fact that he’s shirtless and sweaty as he pulls me in for a hug.

“Dude! I have to go back to work in forty-five minutes,” I gripe, but he just laughs it off. Typical Jordan.

“Oh, no. Wouldn’t want to smell a little sweaty in front of your boss,” he sneers, removing a joint from his back pocket.

“Uh, he’s your boss, too,” I remind him as he lights up and takes in a long drag before handing it out to me. But I shake my head. “Nah, I’m good. The sativa makes me jittery.”

“I feel you, but I need it. We’re hustling out there,” Jordan says on an exhale of pungent smoke. I can tell from the smell it”s the batch Barry harvested some samples of last week.

One hit and I couldn’t sleep all night. I’ll pass.

“They’ve really got you guys working hard, huh?” I ask, holding out my arms to get them some rays.

“Yea, but it’s worth it. Drake asked for me.”

My brows shoot up. “He did?”

“Mhm.” Jordan nods. “He must’ve seen how I’ve been busting my hump and decided it’s time to recruit my awesome ass to the Tribe.”

I scoff at his cockiness, but I can’t help the contemplation painted across my face. Jordan’s wanted to get into the Tribe since he was younger. He has a fighter’s instinct, which would be good for them. Unfortunately, you don’t choose to be in the Tribe. They have to choose you. Or more importantly, Drake does.

“Well, I hope you stay safe, brother.” I pat his shoulder. “We’ve all heard the gunshots…”

He gives me a pointed look. “Training.”

“Right.” I narrow my gaze but decide to change the subject. “You ready for tomorrow?”

“Hell yea! I can’t wait. We’re gonna be drowning in pussy after this one.” Jordan starts shimmying and poking me. I have to laugh.

“You’re an idiot.” I shove him away as he grins, taking in another drag.

“I’ve seen Kinsey on your nuts lately like a bad case of crabs.” He blows the smoke in my face, and I cough, waving it away. “You hittin’ that, baby boy?”

“No.” I scrunch my face. “I’m not hittin’ that. She’s just a friend.”

“Look, I say this with love, Abdiel.” Jordan folds his arms over his chest, and I brace myself for this conversation again. “You need to get laid.” I scoff and shake my head, but before I can even argue, he jumps back in. “You’re putting way too much pressure on sex. Just do it and get it over with.”

“I don’t want to just do it, Jordan,” I hum. He doesn’t understand, and I know this argument is pointless. We’ve been having this conversation since we were fifteen, when he lost his virginity. “I want it to mean something.”

“You sound like such a chick.” He smirks. “You have to be in love, is that right?”

“No, I didn’t say that.” I squint at him. “It doesn’t have to be about love, I just want to be like… I don’t know, vibing on the person.”

He gapes at me for a solid five seconds, and I can tell my words have gone completely over his head. But it’s okay. I don’t need Jordan to get it. I just need him to be a friend, which he is, because he says, “I feel you, brother,” then winks and smacks me on the back.

He doesn’t feel me, but it’s fine. Again, totally unnecessary for me to plead my case as to why I don’t spend my time chasing down every girl on the Expanse. The thing is, if he were smart, Jordan would take his time. There’s a finite number of girls available to him here, after all.

I know I could fuck Kinsey, or any number of the girls who have been casually, or sometimes not-so-casually, flirting with me since I was like thirteen. But it’s very much exactly as I told Jordan. I’m searching for something… And so far, I haven’t found it.

At least, not in a way that could work well for me…

Jordan and I shoot the shit for a little while longer until it’s time for us to head back to our respective jobs. I sneak in a quick bite in my trailer and then I’m back in the Den’s kitchen with Gina, Perry, Cam, and Ryle, preparing dinner for Head Priest and his wives.

On the menu tonight is roasted corn casserole with smoked bacon, a vegetarian option for Lauris of course, fresh snap peas and my honey wheat bread I made the other day. Ryle has been helping me perfect my bread-baking skills for months, and I think I finally got it down. Only problem is, all the practicing left us with an abundance of leftovers, and now I have to give bread to everyone I come across.

By the time sun sets, dinner is ready, and the kitchen smells fantastic. My mouth is watering, and I can’t wait to be done with clean-up so I can try some of this stuff for myself.

“Alright.” Gina claps her hands together, looking anxiously over the table complete with seven place settings. “Everyone ready?”

We all glance at each other and nod, taking in a collective deep breath. We’ve been doing this for years, and yet there’s always a brief moment of panic before showtime. Things don’t typically go wrong, but that’s because we don’t allow them to.

For him, everything must be perfect.

Gina nods at all of us and grabs Perry, the two of them ascending the steps to fetch everyone for dinner. The rest of us take up position in the kitchen. Once they’re all settled at the table with drinks, we’ll plate their food to ensure it stays warm, then serve. It’s a system, and it works.

But the surety of it doesn’t stop my heart from racing beneath my ribs.

Only three minutes later, I hear footsteps, and muscles tense all over my body. The wives always come down before Head Priest. Tonight, I see waves of golden hair and long eyelashes first. Kiara. She takes her seat and motions to Cam for a drink. The impatient one.

Next sneaks by a tiny little thing with a jet-black bob and giant blue eyes. Emithel. She sits as far away from Kiara as possible, nestling into her seat while tugging at the sleeves of her worn charcoal cardigan.

I’m distracted from the overall quietness of Emithel by the stark contrast of loudness brought on by the curvy brunette with lips painted blood red. Sashaying into the room, she falls gracefully into her usual seat at Kiara’s side, giving her a smile that may seem genuine to some, though the rest of us know better.

Alissa. She might as well be wearing a sign that says Watch out for this one.

Making much less of a production of their entrances, in steps the tall, athletic one, Lauris, with the youngest, Gem, a freckled redhead who’s always smiling, at her side.

And now all the wives are seated around the table, looking every bit as different from one another as they are. I’m not sure if that’s what Head Priest was going for when he married them, being that he married them all around the same time. Within roughly a year of each other.

There’s as much mystery surrounding our Head Priest’s marriages as there is surrounding him in general. I think that’s a part of what’s so intriguing about him… We only know what he shows us, which isn’t all that much. We’re raised in The Principality with the understanding that Head Priest’s personal matters are none of our concern.

We don’t get to ask questions, and we certainly don’t get answers.

My pulse is thumping as Gina and Perry slink back toward us, nodding briefly to signal that he’s on his way. My hands are as clammy as ever, and I try jiggling them a bit to dry them off at my sides. I’ll be expected to carry glasses in a moment, and I can’t have them slipping out of my grip.

Heavy footsteps indicate his descension of the stairs, and all minute chatter from the wives is immediately silenced. Every eye in the room is on the staircase as our Head Priest finally makes his first appearance of the evening.

He moves with purpose, striding from the stairs toward the table, without so much as making eye contact. But it’s nothing new. For all the anticipation of his arrival, he barely recognizes that none of us are breathing.

His large form approaches, oozing more confidence in his pinky than I could even begin to formulate in my whole body, presence taking up the entire room. He strides toward the table, and Cam hustles up to pull out his chair for him. He takes his seat promptly, running long fingers through his silky chestnut hair as Cam helps him scoot in before scuttling back to the rest of us.

It’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop while we all stare, and Head Priest pays no mind whatsoever to the tension, lifting his gaze to Gina first.

“Red wine tonight, please,” his rough voice booms through the silence.

And with that, dinner has begun. Chatter resumes amongst the girls, and we all move to get the usual drinks ready for the rest of them. It’s as if the world goes on pause awaiting Darian King.

He moves time.

I can’t help but glance around the corner at him from the kitchen, checking to see what shade his eyes are tonight.

Head Priest’s eyes change color. It’s the most interesting thing I’ve ever seen, thus proving once more that he was put here by Mother to lead us in transformation.

His gaze is stuck on the glass in his hand as Lauris talks to the side of his face. He doesn’t appear to be paying much attention, and I can’t tell from here if his irises are bright blue, gray, or black. Given his apparent contemplative mood, I’d be willing to guess they’re on the darker side.

Darian is a stoic man. He’s generally quiet, but he speaks to us when he needs to. He delivers his weekly sermons with power and conviction; with true faith thundering in his voice and his words. He makes his rounds too, checking on his people and operations. He’s been known to laugh and smile, though it doesn’t happen often, so when it does, it’s coveted. And not only by me, though I’m beginning to think I might notice it more than most others.

Gina nudges me, reminding me to get it together and help with serving dinner. The next few minutes are spent bustling around. Getting drinks, and refills, plating food and serving it, then bowing our heads as Darian says grace.

Mother, we thank You endlessly for these gifts You’ve bestowed upon us. For this lovely meal, and the ingredients that have gone into it. To the animals who sacrificed their lives for our bounty, to the plants and minerals which nourish us…

We praise Your name for the soil, the seeds, the air and water needed to encompass us and our brethren of Your planet. Please continue to watch over us in transformation. Your will be done, always.

Amen.

And then they dig in. Talk continues amongst the wives, though Darian remains quiet, watching the red liquid swirl in his glass. I know what this means…

Only another day or two.

The thing is, I’ve been watching Head Priest for a while, and I’ve begun to notice more than just his infrequent smiles. The change in his eye color seems reflective of his actions; his behaviors. Specifically, his solitude.

Head Priest is all-knowing, and I’m not just saying that because I’m a bit enamored with him. It is said that secrets travel to him in the air. He is perpetually aware of everything that goes on within his Regnum, and across the Expanse overall.

Case in point, a few years back, Jordan’s mother, Lucy, was diagnosed with an auto-immune disease. When she first found out, she was reluctant to tell anyone. She left the doctor and walked to the lake to sit by herself and reflect. Not five minutes later, Darian came out to greet her. And he knew.

He confronted her about her health issues and offered his full support. But he knew about her diagnosis, without her saying a word. Doctor Harriet confirmed she hadn’t shared the information with him, swearing that it would go against the doctor code to do so. Plus, she wouldn’t have even had time. It’s a five-minute walk from the doctor’s trailer to the lake.

And this is just one example of Head Priest’s ability. He always knows every single thing that happens on his land, within his family.

And so it is believed that the secrets really do come to him through the air.

To expand, it’s also known that every few days, Darian requires what is referred to as his solitude. He adjourns to a private lounge in his Den, a room which no one else uses but him, and he spends a few hours in there.

No one knows what he does during this solitude, but I think it’s something of a ritual. And because I pay more attention than anyone else apparently, it seems that his eyes become dark, almost black when he’s in need of his time. Then when he emerges from the lounge, they’re bright… Grayish blue, almost like an overcast sky in the fall.

It’s interesting, to say the least, but no one asks or talks about it, because we’re not entitled to answers about such things.

Yet I’m curious. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this curious about anything in my life.

I’m dying to know what happens in the lounge.

“Who made this bread?” The brogue startles everyone, and we all freeze, faces turning and eyes darting in the direction of our Head Priest.

He’s holding up a piece of my honey wheat, head cocked to the side as he stares back at us Domestics. My coworkers all shift to me, gaping in silence while my heart hurdles in my chest. I blink at Head Priest over wide, nervous eyes.

“I did,” my voice scrapes, and I clear my throat. “I made it, sir.”

Tension slinks through my limbs as I watch him, horrified that he’s going to tell me it’s disgusting or something. Not that he’s ever done anything like that before, but I’m just so scared. I think I’ve only spoken with him directly three times in my whole life.

His tongue slides along his lower lip briefly. It’s such a quick movement, but it roots me to the floor and sends a shiver through my stomach.

“It’s delicious,” he says, softly. A tone made of velvet.

And now I can see his eyes clearly as he stares back at me. Dark blue, like the lake at night.

“Thank you, Head Priest,” I whisper, still all throaty and just trying not to shake.

His lips curl at one corner. It’s the subtlest change in his face, but it makes me lightheaded.

The spell is broken when a loud bang comes from the front of the Den. I jump at the noise, eyes still locked on those of my Head Priest. He doesn’t startle at all, his dark gaze remaining on mine for only a moment before slinking toward the entrance to the dining room, as a tall being with black hair stomps in.

The man pulls out a chair, rather loudly, and plops down at the empty place setting, which is always set for him, though he rarely shows up for dinner.

Letting out a loud breath, he looks around the room, then smirks. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Drake. Lovely of you to join us,” Darian addresses his brother with only a trace of reprimanding being swallowed up by humor and fondness.

“Can’t let you all miss me too much now, can I?” Drake releases his signature wicked grin, blinking over his peculiar eyes at Head Priest.

He turns a wink on Gem, and high-fives Emithel.

The conversation picks back up between the seven of them, and the Domestics retreat to the kitchen to start cleaning up. I move on autopilot, all the while replaying that look in my mind… That voice.

It’s delicious.

I’m not a weirdo or anything. I know he was just complimenting me on the bread, compliments I’ve already received from ten people in the past two days. But for some reason, coming from him, it was like a great gift to be decoded.

I totally seem like a weirdo, I know. But I can’t stop myself.

By the time everyone is having dessert and coffee, Darian stands, with Drake, and excuses them to talk business. I watch them go, my insides pleading to follow, though I know I can’t. I’m not allowed to know what they’re doing, if Head Priest is going for solitude now, and if so, what he’s doing inside that room.

It’s none of my business, and it kills me.

I’m not a nosy person either, I swear, but there’s something about seeing the darkness in Darian’s eyes, when he’s in need of his solitude. And then seeing him the next day, eyes alit with crystalline blue-gray, clouds and wind. It’s fascinating.

He’s fascinating.

Once we’re done with cleanup, us Domestics get to eat, and I was right; the casserole is delicious. As is my bread, but we already knew that. Head Priest said so.

It’s delicious. A chill runs across my skin.

When my shift is over, I go to the nightly reflection. There’s a massive fire pit built in the center of the giant circle that is Regnum housing, and everyone meets here at night to reflect on the day. It’s a great time to catch up with the family, and once a week, Jordan and I will perform a song, which we’ll be doing tomorrow.

Tonight, I’m keeping it low-key. Feeling a bit introspective, I suppose. I watch as my best friend cuddles up to a new girl. I smile when Gina and Paul nestle together at the end of a hard day’s work. I force a smile when Kinsey waves at me from across the fire.

Searching, Mother. Just searching.

Leaving early, I sneak off to go home. And as I wander through the woods, back toward my trailer, I see the eyes of a serpent, glowing at me in the dark.